


By the Light of the Moon

by Luthienberen



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 12:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthienberen/pseuds/Luthienberen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams are said to be representations of our inner-most desires. Renard experiences how unsettling yet alluring his dreams can be.</p><p>[implied infidelity, Spoilers for Season 2 up to Episode 8]</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Light of the Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fangirlishness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlishness/gifts).



> This was written for the Christmas 2012 gift session on the livejournal community grimm_challenge for fangirlishness, who requested something with Renard struggling with his obsession for Juliette. From that prompt sprung this ‘missing scene’ from The Other Side: Episode 8 of S2. 
> 
> This was fun to write and also my first attempt at Renard/Juliette (implied).
> 
> \- - - - - - - - -

He was walking barefoot through a forest. The soft grass teased his soles while the balmy night air was pleasing against his skin. Renard gazed curiously around as he moved through the strangely silent woods.

He had a purpose here: a motive that drew him to this place at this time. Pushing further into the dark and quiet woods where trees were black sentinels all around him, Renard did not pause to consider why he could see so well in the dark or why he was barefoot.

Well, Renard the Captain did briefly dwell on such questions, but they vanished as soon as they formed.

They were unimportant anyway.

Renard knew he was here to find something…someone and that was what mattered.

_There!_

A flash of red fluttered across his vision and Renard felt his chest constrict. A desire to chase suffused his mind and he sprang after the teasing ripple of scarlet that for some reason glowed starkly against the darkness of the night.

His mind whispered caution yet his heart sang for the thrill of the hunt. It was imperative he catch this slip of red. Why Renard hardly knew. All he cared was that he did.

_Maybe this was the reason for his being here?_

Ah! There amidst the tall trees! A slender form in the night - a silhouette lit by the shinning red that flowed from it – danced away from him. Ringing laughter as fair as the laughter of the fairies caressed his ears and Renard put on a burst of speed.

He leapt over twisting roots determined to unbalance him and cause him to fail in his quest. He ducked under malicious branches eager to knock him down, ever fuelled to catch this slip of a creature that enraptured him so.

A wall loomed before him and Renard did not even halt just flung himself at and through the biting bush.

_This is not right. I shouldn’t be able to go through unharmed._

The uneasy acknowledgement faded from memory as what the wall was hiding was revealed.

A clearing met his frantic eyes and in the centre was a pool, upon which the moonlight shone turning the surface a glimmering silver. It was beautiful.

Breathless Renard stepped forward and moved to stand by the silvery depths. As he gazed upon the pool a vision came into focus and he gasped.

The same silhouette stared boldly up at him, luscious red locks rippling away from the creature’s head.

Delighted, Renard fell to his knees and reached out only to have water meet his fingertips. The silhouette laughed and as he watched features materialised and Renard hissed.

_Juliette._

Nick’s girlfriend smiled at him, her beautiful face a picture of joy. Yet in her wonderful green eyes lurked a sadness that made Renard ache to remove it, to mop up all her grief and hurt.

And why not? A treacherous part of him whispered. Nick was alienating his girlfriend, concealing his true identity as a Grimm in an effort to protect Juliette. Yet in the process he was inflicting confusion and loneliness upon the young woman who was trying so hard to understand her boyfriend’s

_Nick doesn’t deserve you._

Renard stared at the shining form of Juliette, drinking in her vibrancy for life, her happiness, her kindness so evident in her smile and in her gentle words and behaviour towards others.

_You deserve better. I’d love you. I’d worship you._

Juliette laughed again and her red lips parted to form two crescent moons. Her voice was as enchanting as the glowing moonlight on the pool.

_Sean._

That was all it took.

In the simple calling of his name Renard was lost and he dove into the glassy waters, arms outstretched to catch Juliette.

The surface closed above him and Renard could feel the cool sensation of the waters surrounding him, but in all this he cared only for Juliette. With a cry, swallowing water as he did, Renard triumphantly seized his love and pulled her to the surface.

Breaking for air he gasped and half swam and crawled onto the grassy shore.

Lying down breathless he turned to meet Juliette’s warm green eyes and in them the same shadowy sadness he had glimpsed from earlier.

Unable to bear it any longer, Renard forwent his restraint and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to Juliette’s.

The kiss was everything he had dreamed. Their lips slid and it was gloriously wet and messy as he kissed Juliette with a passion he thought he had long banked.

Juliette shifted closer, fitting her curves along the hard panes of his body. Renard was aware of one hand coming up to rest on the side of his face.

Renard stopped to allow them to breathe and grinned like a love-sick fool at the expression in Juliette’s eyes. No grief darkened her lovely eyes; instead it was as if the moonlight was trapped in them, for they shimmered with joy. He could feel the rise and fall of her breast as she breathed.

Juliette sighed and stroked his cheek with her long elegant fingers. “Sean.”

Renard smiled. Happiness filled his being as if Juliette in the process of kissing him had poured her goodness into him, making him feel lighter and less worn by his duties.

“Juliette.”

Renard wrapped an arm around Juliette, relishing her softness and was about to say something else when he realised how odd it was that neither of them were wet.

Confused Renard sat up and glanced down at his clothes. They were perfectly dry like he had never dived into the pool.

“Sean?”

Renard looked at Juliette and saw how not a single strand of her wonderful hair was even damp, let alone soaking from being trapped in the pool…trapped within the pool?

How was that even possible?

_What sorcery is this?_

“Sean?”

Juliette was gazing at him worriedly. Her skin was translucent and as Renard watched he saw her eyes lose their glow.

Alarmed, Renard gathered in his arms a woman who seemed as insubstantial as a breath of air.

“Juliette, what’s happening?”

Juliette tilted her head curiously, her once green eyes nearly void of colour. Her red hair was strangely vibrant, a nearly gruesome contrast to her lips which were white as the bright moon above, “What do you mean? Sean, are you okay?”

‘Okay’ was barely a whisper and as Renard watched in horror, Juliette faded away in his arms until he toppled forward now that he was no longer holding Juliette.

Panicked Renard jumped up and began calling. After a moment of searching Renard finally knelt by the shimmering pool and looked once more into the waters.

Out of the glossy ripples he caught a glimpse of Adalind smugly staring at him.

_What’s wrong? Your princess spurned you, prince?_

Rage erupted in Renard, blazing away his finely tuned control and he clawed at the image of Adalind who simply laughed and laughed – and not the sweet laughter of Juliette but the bitter vengeful laughter of an enemy satisfied by the misery of her foe.

Renard half fell into the silvery pool, trying to grasp Adalind and as he once more drank in the glistening liquid Renard felt a wrench.

 

* * *

 

Renard snapped awake, shooting up in bed, sweat beading his forehead and drenching his chest.

His heart was beating painfully and the anger he had experienced was still pulsing through his body. Trembling, Renard shoved his damp covers aside and shakily made his way to the bathroom.

Half-wary of his own taps he turned them on and washed his face with hands that shook, much to his disgust.

Peering into the mirror Renard saw a flicker of the Wesen that he partly was and shuddered.

It had been a dream – a terribly realistic dream that involved some pretty sickening desire on his part.

This obsession was growing untenable. It was bleeding into all areas of his life. He had even crashed and then hit a man.

Now not even in his dreams he was safe. It wouldn’t be long before his waking days were so full of this aching attraction towards Juliette that he would do anything, as at the pool, to possess her.

He could not continue like this. What if he hurt Juliette?

 _Juliette._ Renard shut his eyes and inhaled. The mere murmur of her name was enough to conjure the fresh tantalising aroma of her perfume and the reassuring warmth of her presence.

For a moment it was like she was standing beside him.

Renard’s hands closed on the cold porcelain of his washbasin.

_The firm pressure of her lips against his and her soothing caress on his face…_

“Fuck.”

Renard hissed, opening his eyes. He had clenched the washbasin so tightly, as he dwelled once more in his dream that he had gripped too hard. Wincing he released his hold and wrung out his abused fingers.

This was ridiculous, insane.

Still trying to ease the throb in his hands Renard snatched up a towel to dry himself. Rubbing the towel over his face was a relief. He welcomed the invigorating pull of the fabric across his skin.

The rough slide also shattered the haunting remnants of his dream allowing him to think clearly again.

This obsession was becoming dangerous. It was slowly consuming him.

Examining his reflection in the mirror as he finished towelling his chest Renard noted the blue circles under his eyes. They were a sharp contrast to the flush that stained his face.

This was not seemly of a prince. Bastard he may be, yet Renard had every intention of fulfilling not the role he had been given, but the one he would carve for himself.

He had been doing not too badly until this point.

Reminding himself of his intended prize, Renard calmly tidied his towel away.

He would find a cure for this obsessive love.

He knew of a certain apothecary that catered to Wesen. He would pay a visit.

Switching off the light in the bathroom Renard ignored the image of Juliette that flickered in the hollow depths of his mirror before the darkness swallowed the room.

 


End file.
